It's late and I'm watching a boy
with a pale face and eyes like bruises
sleep shakily on my brother's bed.
He's stopped throwing up now, and
is very beautiful - all sticky mouth
and sticking-out bones. I promised
I'd watch him, to stop him from choking,
or slipping into a deeper sleep,
but this boy was born for influenza,
no, consumption, he has the messy hair
and the cheekbones for it,
and if he slipped away
I'm not sure I could bring myself
to stop him.
Comments
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I like this. Partly I just feel smug because I know what it's about. But I do like it. "eyes like bruises" is nice and "sleep shakily" - 'shakily' is kind of onomaetopaic - well not quite but something like that - anyway and having the alliteration emphasises that. Also "He's stopped throwing up now, and/is very beautiful" - the beautiful thing wouldn't work otherwise, but because it comes in juxtaposition with that...is really good.
The ending I quite like, although it reminds me...when Frances Leviston came and she said that people quite often try to wrap their poems up at the end? And have a sort of neat ending? It feels a bit like that to me - almost too endingy, if that makes sense. Just the last two lines I mean. Although I do quite like them, but maybe they're slightly too neat...I don't know.
Anyway, like this v. much, and is v. exciting you are posting poems here.
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